Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal.

My cousin has passed on. Although we mourn his death I imagine that others are lifting their veils upon his arrival to wherever it is we go upon passing. It's hard to swallow. It's a tough situation for me. It's a difficult situation for my family, (for any family) but it's something that happened. And especially being in the situation he was in, knowing he had such a tough time getting ahead in life, knowing that unexpected day would come. ... Death is always unexpected and can never be prepared for nor easy to swallow.

He didn't die an honorable death. He wasn't shot in combat or during the call of duty. He was shot because guns kill people and uneducated people holding guns shoot people because words are beyond their comprehension. Living the rest of their lives behind bars is what the future holds for them and they are content with that. Whether behind bars in an institution, their minds are behind bars while out in the world, not knowing how to be an upstanding citizen in the community, in this world. Pathetic really. They probably grew up with either no fathers or terrible fathers that taught them such things in life.

My thoughts are with his infant son. I don't want to imagine a world when children are growing up with no father, with no guidance, with no man to look up to and find comfort in. How will this young man learn to be a man in society? Will he escape into the world he was brought up in? Most likely. It saddens me to the depths of my core and being pregnant doesn't help with the sensitivity towards any small child in this world.

It's unfair. It's unfair for many. For my cousin Blaise, for the family he leaves behind, for his infant son who will never know the sparkle in his father's eye nor the pitch of his laughter that could make you smile at your worst. He had a bright soul and if he could have helped others, he would have. I wish he could have helped himself.

He was raised by my grandfather (aka Uncle Ted-whom I refuse to call by Uncle Ted because he was a grandfather, a saint, a wonderful man), and had the spirit of the old Polack man he was so very fond of. They are surely together now, drinking red beers and watching Sylawn (the old German Shepherd) prancing around, perhaps playing cards and watching over the rest of us.

We enjoy warmth because we have been cold. We appreciate light because we have been in darkness. By the same token, we can experience joy because we have known sadness. We'd be selfish to believe he belongs here with us.